Samsquatch's Snafu
by TwilightDiamond
Summary: Sam intends to get work done on a new development in a case, but his work ethic ends up getting him into some trouble with a certain angel. / This is a Sabriel story intended to be part of a larger series, but is just a one-shot for now. It makes sense without the rest of the context, so it was posted first. It is not written in my normal style, as it was originally for school.


_Samsquatch's Snafu ~_

I sat back with a sigh, and then lifted my ankle up on top of to my knee to as I casually watched what was in front of me. Dean, my brotherMy brother Dean sat across from me, and, was rapidly shoveling egg, onion, and tomato into his mouth – all part of an omelet that _I'd _cooked. The knife I was going to use was still sat in front of me, while though the rest of my plate and silverware had been confiscated. "And you're just gonna eat it in front of me?" I asked. All If he wanted it so badly, all he had to do was request one himself.

"_Mph-hm,"_ he Dean mumbled back through a messy face-full of breakfast. Even if I'd let him have it - or really, let him _take_ it - he could've at least had the decency to hide out in his room with it or something. _"Coul' use some meat…"_ he added with a grunt. I shook my head, sliding back to get up and search for something else in the cupboards. I had used the last of the eggs, but I could tell Dean was hungover and tired. It wasn't a big deal - , even if he reeked of beer and sweat.

I crouched and peered into our small fridge, trying to see around the fast food wrappers and disorganized piles of stolen condiments. It Seeing them, I absently thought how it was probably good that we rarely went to the same place twice while on the road.

"Sam."

I tensed at my name, suddenly made aware of the obtrusive figure behind me. "C-Cas, geez," I muttered. Even without him just appearing next to us, he was pretty quiet when you weren't paying attention.

"Are you looking for food?" he asked, even though the answer was obvious. I glanced back at him over my shoulder.

"Yeah, Cas," I sighed. I knew he probably wouldn't really understand any sarcasm too very well, so there was no point in snapping at him. With anyone else, I'd think have thought he'd be waiting to get in the fridge, but the angel was morest likely just curious. It was harmless, even if he just startled me. As I saw his trench coat glide away towards Dean, I turned back to the refrigerator and pulled got out a pre-made salad bag. It would be good enough.

I grabbed a bowl and fork, then quickly stepped out into the hall; Cas was saying something about Dean looking awful, and while I agreed, I didn't really want to be pulled into that conversation. I'd had it way too many times – telling Dean to shower, wear clean clothes, and overall keep his hygiene in check. If Cas was okay with taking that job, then good for him. The main room bunkerbunker's main room was relatively in order, aside from the few books one of ussomeone hads left sitting out on the main table. My computer was down at the other end with the paper stack I'd left for myself last night while doing some research. I'd learned from college that pulling an all-nighter was only going to make me feel as bad as Dean did in the other room, so I saved it for today. Pulling up a chair, I dumped out my salad and booted up the laptop to keep going where I left off. I figured could get some stuff done before Gabe got up; he'd been out all last night at some weird _pagan _party,, so he'd probably be take a while despite being an archangel. Even so, he said he wanted to 'hang out' today -, probably just for some attention.

My document of notes was almost completely blank, since ; it was mostly just a list of possibilities I'd ruled out in my research. We'd recently had foundgotten our hands on a new artifact of some kind, and while it seemed harmless when locked up, I was more worried about where, or _what_ it came from. At first, we just figured it was cursed - , but both Cas and even Gabe said they didn't recognize any of the its magic, surrounding it - but though they both agreed that it was a real feather from something that was alive. And if it was true, we needed to know what it came from. I cracked open a book a to sticky note inside, marking where I'd had left off reading about ancient Chilean alicanto.

After a while, I heard footsteps go past, but I didn't bother to look up. It was probably just Dean retreating into another room to watch TV or – hopefully – go back to sleep. He said something about the 'bad bad Party City decorationcraft store decoration,' which I'd heard him call the feather before, so I just replied, "Uh-huh." If he had added anything else after that, I'd had blocked it out. Reading an entire, poorly translated poem from the Philippines and searching it for a single bird took more focus than I expected. My head I became lost in the story, trying to find out whatever happened to the caged songbird, even though its description didn't really match anymore. I continued kept spot reading until I knew figured it was more than long gone from the story, then just moved on to the next creature on the list. The next one following creature had just as long of a story attached, so I had to just keep going, despite the conversation that had started by the hall entrance. After Even after finally getting through itfinishing that one, I still had at least five more in the A's list alone, so I definitely didn't try to chat when Dean sat down to, eat - ing _again._ The myth I'd started skimming was so vague that I had to search for separate accounts or translations online. Beneath the cranking scroll wheel, Dean muttered something before he left, and I just nodded.

Eventually, when I had made it just gotten to the B's, my eyebrows raise as I caught the words "deity of creation." I'd paged through Russian sirens, Greek roosters, and healing doves, but this was the first one to even besound in the ballpark of correct. I began typing in a new entry, paying no attention to the green t jacket that walked past beyond behind the screen. I was laser-focused, because , for I finally had the first of the possible culprits list: a crane-like pagan god from of Egypt named Bennu.

'_Bennu the heron is the self-creating ancient Egyptian deity of the sun, creation, and rebirth. It was said to have helped in the creation of the world,' _the page in my book read. If it had helped to create the world, surely it would make sense that one of its feathers could make smaller objects, right? I was beginning to feelstarted feeling excited, hoping getting my hopes up that that my search could end near the beginning of the alphabet. I set my finger down on the old, worn paper, tracing down the lines to find its location and description - but my heart sank. _'The original depiction of Bennu in the Pyramid Texts may have been a yellow wagtail, but New Kingdom drawings show the Bennu as a grey heron…'_

Neither description matched at all. I tipped my head back in my frustration and groaned. Normally, you'd I'd normally think that finding a pink and purple bird would be easier than this, but apparently it was going to be worse than I expected. Just then, as I sat up again and moved my hands to the keyboard, my wrist was scratched by a tiny, plastic _something_. Confused, I stopped moving, then pinched the newly appeared wrapper and lifted it up. It was an empty bag of candy hearts. _Very funny, _I thought to myself, knowing that Gabe had probably-

Wait, Gabe? Wasn't he asleep, though?

I looked up, but began to gaze around the room in shock. The bunker was filthya mess! Dean had left his messy plate where he'd had sat down earlier and hadn't even bothered to push in his chair. Beer bottles littered the second table, and even Cas's coat was lying out on a side seat. Since when did he even take that thing off?

"Rise and shine, Sammy!" I tensed as Dean suddenly barged in, throwing a flannel haphazardly on over a chair, much like the trench coat had been.

"Dean, what the hell!?" I asked, motioning to all the the array of junk that was left lying around.

"You said you'd put my plate away," he answered back, as if entitled.

I set my hand on my forehead, leaning on the tabletop, confused and annoyed. "When?"

"After I ate." I covered my eyes for a moment in disbelief, then stood up.

"Well, _you _can clean up _your_ mess," I told him fairly, lifting my laptop and turning to head for my room. I wasn't going to be blamed for his destruction of the bunker today.

On the way, I tried to calm down by putting the whole thing behind me., I had to focus, but began to think I couldn't help but think again about the sweet hearts candy bag that had been left next to me. Still trying to focus on work, II told myself that it was just Gabriel being Gabriel, starting off his morning with sugar and messing with me for kicks and giggles. It was the only thing he ever ate, after all, and he was still Loki himself. It still But it still bugged bothered me, though; why did he put it in front of my laptop, of all places? Then, just as I pushed my door open, I caught sight of the time. It was 2:30 PM on my computer's desktop.

_Oh, no..._

"Gabe?" I called out as I stepped into my room, figuring he'd be impatiently waiting for me -, but when I got inside, it was amazingly worse than I'd expected. My whole room – the dresser, the bed, the _floor _– was all _covered_ in candy wrappers.

"_**GABE!"**_


End file.
